


Prologue: Eleanora

by hopefullyMobius



Series: Black Sun [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Black Sun, Original Character - Freeform, Original work - Freeform, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:52:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefullyMobius/pseuds/hopefullyMobius
Summary: You forgot your name a very long time ago- so long ago that you've stopped searching.You keep coming back. You don't even get a choice about going home.Most cycles are uneventful.These ones are special.





	Prologue: Eleanora

It's cycle 15, and you’re in a field with a girl who has a gun to your head. 

She tells you it’s nothing personal. She tells you that she’s just the messenger, and that the message is that you have become a liability.  
Unlike the rest of the people from her organization, she’s not hiding what she looks like. There’s no need for a cloak to hide the dagger, because no one ever shoots the messenger. They don’t even try to. 

You've never seen her before. You kind of hoped that whoever killed you would have at least left an impression, but she’s very plain looking. There isn’t a quirk to her features that reminds you of the adversary you've been haunting. You think that's a shame. 

She smells sterile, like a hospital, like you’re her fifth job tonight.

You understand. It’s nothing personal, like she says. Nothing personal to latch onto- except for the practiced indifference in her eyes. You know that feeling well. It’s good enough. You’ll take it. 

You see her pull the trigger, and you get the feeling you were supposed to tell her something before you left.

It's cycle 15, and you’ve already forgotten why you’re here. 

 

It's cycle 504, and to say that you’re cold would be an understatement. 

You’re on top of a mountain no one has reached the summit of before. Your four companions have already died, the last one just a few minutes prior.

Your grandfather was so proud of you when you told him you were going to go against your mothers’ wishes. When you told him you were going to keep running. When you told him to leave the world to you. 

If you make it out of here, you think, knees giving out, you will have to tell him you’re sorry. There's only one man who can lift the world, and that man isn't you. It was foolish to try. 

You look towards your dead companion, his body lying down mere feet away from you. His fingers- exposed- were already looking a sickly black. It was especially foolish, you conclude before you give up, to think that you were what's good for him. Without you, he would have kept that black thumb green. Growing was a painstaking process for you, but not for him, and you had no right to take that away. 

His name was Atlas. You thought it mattered. 

It’s cycle 501, and the itch is getting worse.

 

It's cycle 45,098,375, and you have to laugh past the knocking in your lungs. 

Of all the things that could have done you in, it’s a cough that takes you out. Tuberculosis, specifically. You can hear the devil laughing, the smug bastard. 

You wish he would turn up. You would gladly sell your soul for a little extra time. With the amount of pain you’ve caused, you think, you would expect him to show up at your sickbed. Hell, you kind of expected some kind of parade. 

The meanest motherfucker on this gods forsaken island deserves a parade on their way out. Something loud and rowdy, full of fire and alcohol. The stuff from Niigata would have done just fine. 

It’s three in the morning. It’s your birthday. You’re alone. You take your sword out to finish the job before the devil can.

It's cycle 45,098,375, and you ought to be a little more careful of what you wish for.

 

It's cycle 67,765,237,223,752, and you didn’t even get a chance to breathe.

You were one of two.  
The unlucky one of two. 

It's cycle 67,765,237,223,752, and a good amount of them ended just like this.

 

You’ve stopped counting what cycle you were on a long time ago. 

People are familiar to you. When they disappoint you, you see it coming. When they anger you, you’re not surprised. You’ve always been very level-headed. Cold, some people say, but only when they think you’re out of earshot. You don’t mind. This quality is one they look for in a leader, which is something you are. You have a shiny badge and your own team with a fantastic track records to prove it.

You’re on a dangerous mission with your fantastic team when you see your ghost from the corner of your eye. 

They’ve been following you your whole life. On the rare occasion they stop to speak to you, they tell you that you have to stay where you are. That they’ve stopped missing you, and that they would rather you lived this time around. All the bad stuff that happened to you in this lifetime wasn’t even their doing. It's all you and your sharp tongue and your skilled hands. They say it like they're trying to warn you. It makes you laugh. 

This ghost is the only person that stands out in your life. You've lived a lifetime of new experiences that you feel like you've already had, a lifetime of being introduced to people you feel you’ve already met, and they’re the only thing that feels new. It excites you, and it makes you afraid, and it makes you furious, and you love them. Even when they tell you not to. 

Every time someone asks you to give your heart to them, you refuse. You tell them that you’re married to your job, that you don’t feel the same way. You tell them that you’re not batting for the team they’re on, which is funny. Everyone who knows your name knows that’s a lie every single time you use that excuse. You don't tell anyone about your ghost. No one needs to know. 

You’re on a mission somewhere dangerous, and your ghost is there. You stop the carriage you’re on and go to talk to them.  
They’re furious with you. They asked you so politely to stay, so many times. They tell you about Avi, urgency and panic breaking their voice. You know about Avi, you say. You know and you don’t mind.

You kiss them, slow and sweet. 

They are your one and only. You’ll miss them terribly. The traitor in your group tries not to look pleased when they see that you are leaving someone behind.

Your name is Gabriel this last cycle. Like the first Gabriel, you’ve always brought news with you. Unlike the first Gabriel, all that news has been bad.  
When you inform Darceline that the mission is compromised, when you hand her your badge, when you tell her that you’ll see her again one day, the heartbreak in her eyes makes you curse your name. She’s the one person you never wanted to hurt. 

You’ve lost track of the cycles, but you wish you hadn’t. You realize now, too late, when you can’t continue your cycles anymore, that you kissed the one person you should have spat on.


End file.
